


vanilla ice cream

by boylebingo



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Inspired by She Loves Me (Musical), Love Letters, Online Dating, kinda (theyre actually texts but its fine it counts lol)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boylebingo/pseuds/boylebingo
Summary: Fabiola creates an anonymous dating app that goes viral among Princeton students. Devi has no luck finding a match on there -- until one day she does.
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 26
Kudos: 81





	1. dear friend

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I am a glutton for love letter-ish tropes??? Anyway, this concept inspired by the musical She Loves Me, which is one of my absolute favorites, but you don't have to know anything about it to enjoy - a lot is changed anyways :) 
> 
> This is a College AU where everyone meets at Princeton so it's pretty much all outside canon 
> 
> Also - there is mentions of Eleanor / Paxton bc I feel like we are all being converted to that train hehe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"We can have like a code name or something, if you want, so we don’t have to just be like, ‘hey you’ or whatever.”_
> 
> _“OK, yeah. How about Dear Friend?”_
> 
> _“Dear Friend?”_
> 
> _“Yeah, you know, like a letter. Dear Friend, today I went to the grocery store and saw a man start throwing grapes on the ground and start shouting that he was making fine wine, etc.”_
> 
> _“That seems to specific to not be something that actually happened to you…”_
> 
> _“Tragically, yes. People are… odd.”_
> 
> _“Yikes. I like the nickname though.”_
> 
> _“Yeah?”_
> 
> _“Yeah.”_

After the series of _extremely_ unfortunate events that was her high school experience, Devi Vishwakumar didn’t consider herself a lucky person, but on her first day at Princeton, she was placed into Orientation Group 6 and things began to change.

She was initially irritated by this because the leader for group 3, who had introduced himself as a sophomore and varsity swimmer was quite possibly the most attractive boy she had ever seen and she had really been hoping to be in _his_ group, but as it turned out, she would be in the same group as Fabiola Torres, whose roommate was Eleanor Wong, and they would both quickly become her best friends.

The only real downside, besides the lack of eye candy, was that this was also where she would meet Ben Gross, who Devi had decided was definitely the most annoying person at the school and possibly the most annoying person in the universe. Overall, though, Devi was happy that things turned out the way they had. She loved her friends, and she couldn’t imagine making it through college without them.

The three girls were sitting in the library one day early in their sophomore year pretending to get work done when Fabiola turned her laptop around to show them the screen, which was displaying lines and lines of code that meant next to nothing to Devi or Eleanor.

“I did it.”

“Congrats, I think?” Eleanor said, puzzled.

“I am taking an app development class this semester, and our first assignment was to make something that we thought could go viral on campus,” Fabiola clarified, “It’s actually a group project, for our midterm grade - we all got paired with someone in one of the marketing classes to help up promote our project – and I think I finished it.”

“Oh, cool,” Devi said. “What is it?”

Fabiola rolled her eyes, but explained anyway. “It’s a dating app that’s only for Princeton students, and it’s totally anonymous. No pictures or names or anything – just a questionnaire and an algorithm to match you with people.”

“Ooh,” Eleanor cooed, “that seems fun.”

“I hope so. I have to text my partner Eve and tell her that we’re ready for launch tomorrow. She made these really cool ads for Instagram when I told her the idea. Fabiola clicked onto a new tab to show them.

 _“Fall in Love with a Stranger,”_ the ad read, _“Download TigerCrush today.”_

“Damn, Fab I’d totally download this if I saw that even if we didn’t know each other,” Devi said. “I like the Princeton touch with the name.” 

“That was Eve’s idea,” Fabiola replied, and Devi swore her friend was blushing when she said, “She’s really smart.”

* * *

Within the next few weeks, literally everyone Devi knew was using _TigerCrush_. It was working too – there were two girls in Devi’s chemistry class who were lab partners who had always flirted with each other but didn’t actually start dating until they had started talking on Fabiola’s app without even knowing. A frat guy on the baseball team had started going out with this really shy girl who Devi knew from orchestra and she guesses that they probably never would have matched on a regular dating app. Even Eleanor had found her boyfriend, Paxton, on there, who ironically enough for Devi, turned out to be the very same Orientation Leader she had developed a 24-hour crush on way back when. The world – or at least the Princeton campus – really was small.

Devi was – well, she didn’t like to say _desperate,_ but really what other word was there – for the app to work for her too. But so far, the only people she had matched with had been duller than the 80-year-old English lit professor that she had freshman year.

“Don’t tell Fab,” she said one night when she was getting dinner with Eleanor, “but I think her app is broken.”

“Well if it _is_ broken, don’t tell Paxton either. I think he’d be a little insulted.”

“Ok, well _maybe_ it’s just broken for _me._ Maybe I have a bug where I only get _boring_ people.”

Eleanor laughs at this, and jokingly asks, “Maybe your standards are too high?”

“El!” Devi gently whacked her friend in mock offense. “Aren’t you supposed to be like, encouraging me to only date people who know I deserved to be treated like a queen or whatever?”

Eleanor lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh, you’re right. I’ve set the feminist movement back 50 years. Now Gloria Steinem will never wanna be my friend.”

As Devi giggles at her friend’s genuine-looking pout, a notification goes off on her phone. She looks down. The banner that has appeared on her lock screen reads,

“ ** _You have a new match! Open the app to read more about them!_**

“Speak of the devil,” she deadpans.

“Oooo, lemme see, lemme see!”

“The whole point of the app is that there’s noting _to_ see, El. Besides, we’re eating, I’ll look later.”

“No, way,” Eleanor insisted. “What if he’s _the one_ and you just leave him waiting? We are looking _now_.”

Devi relents, knowing that she’s lost this argument too many times to even make it worth having anymore, and recites the profile details out loud to her over-eager friend.

“He’s a sophomore too, and majoring in political science, and he says he’s a cat person.”

“ _Awww,_ when you guys raise kittens together can you name one after me?”

“ _When?”_ Devi balks. “El, you _literally_ know three facts about this guy. He could be a criminal.”

“Ok, but they’re three _good_ facts. None of them point to criminal behavior.”

“First of all, being a cat person is like the first step to becoming an evil mastermind. But even still, I feel like you’ve already planned half the wedding.”

“I am starting a vision board on Pinterest as we speak,” she answers, and if Devi didn’t know any better, she wouldn’t know that Eleanor was kidding. Even now she’s barely sure.

As they’re reading through the rest of the profile, the app alerts her that she has a new message, which Eleanor responds to with a loud squeal.

“Openitopenitopenit,” she says as if it’s all one word. And so Devi does.

_“You must be made of uranium and iodine, because I can see U and I together.”_

This was quite possibly the worst pickup line Devi had ever heard but something about it made her blush a little.

“ _Oof, is that the best you’ve got? Maybe you should stick to politics :P”_ she wrote back.

 _“I saw you were pre-med, I thought you might appreciate the science pun,”_ the mystery boy responded. _“Besides,”_ he added, _“there are NO good political pick up lines.”_

_“What about… I must be Uncle Sam, because I want you.”_

_“boooooo”_

_“That was NOT worse than what you said.”_

_“But it wasn’t good!”_

_“Ok, maybe there’s just no such thing as a good pick up line period.”_

_“I mean mine seemed to work ;)”_

_“Hmm, did it though?”_

_“You tell me.”_

“ _… maybe a little.”_

Before Devi could see if he responded to her, Eleanor was nudging her in the shoulder.

“ _Yooouu liiiike hiiim_ ,” she said in a sing song voice.

“El, it is way too early for that. I feel nothing towards this person. I do not _know_ this person.”

“But you’re _smiiiilllliiiing_ ”

“He’s maybe a _little_ funny. _Maybe._ ”

This small admission was all that Eleanor needed to start singing “I Can Hear the Bells” from _Hairspray._ Devi felt like she was supposed to be embarrassed by this, but she’d known Eleanor for over a year, so she was immune. In fact, she was almost enjoying the one woman show when Eleanor suddenly stopped in her tracks.

“Aw, cmon, El, you were just getting to the good part,” Devi protested.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she heard a voice behind her answer, and she groaned, knowing exactly who it was that had come to ruin their fun.

“Hey Ben,” Eleanor cheerfully greeted him, frustrating Devi further by not even bothering to pretend to feel disdain towards him for her sake.

“Hey Eleanor,” he said, smiling, which Devi had rarely, if ever seen him do. Sure enough, as he turned towards her, he went stone faced.

“David,” he nodded curtly.

“Did you need something, Gross?” Devi asked, practically spitting out the words and barely bothering to turn around to greet him.

“Actually, yeah. Eleanor do you have the blocking notes from play rehearsal last night? I spilled my coffee all over my script this morning when I was running lines.”

Devi finally swiveled fully in her seat to properly face him for the first time since he’d approached their table. “You’re in the play?” she asked, and then whirled back around to face her friend. “He’s in the play?”

“Yeah,” they both answered her sheepishly at the same time.

“Is it so shocking that I have hobbies, David?”

“No, I’m just surprised that being in _College Republicans_ doesn’t take up too much of your time.” Even Devi herself wasn’t sure if the gag she had let out when she said _Republicans_ was real or for show.

“I know this might come as a surprise to you, David, but a person is actually allowed to do more than one thing. Eleanor is in the knitting club and she still does the play.”

“Stop knowing things about my friends.”

“Stop saying _College Republicans_ like the words make you wanna throw up.”

“Actually it’s just _you,_ who makes me sick, so—”

“I have the notes with me now, if you wanna like take pictures of them or whatever,” Eleanor intervenes, knowing that if she let them get too far the entire dining hall might wind up in flames.

Bens entire demeanor shifts as he snaps himself out of their argument.

“Oh yeah, sure, thanks,” he says with a level of softness that makes Devi roll her eyes. _Coward_.

“Come sit while I look for them,” Eleanor says, gesturing at their table. Her violin perched on the seat next to her, so Ben had no choice but to slide into the booth next to Devi, who makes a point to cross her arms in front of her chest and look irritated. He smirked in her direction when she does this.

“Don’t worry, my political beliefs aren’t contagious or anything.”

“Obviously, but your many diseases might be,”

“Oh sorry, didn’t realize you still believed that boys had _cooties._ That explains the lack of boyfriends.”

Devi just groaned. She had been having a decent night before this _moron_ had shown up. She glared at Eleanor during their entire conversation about how much they both _loved_ the director, but she either didn’t notice or, more likely, was ignoring her on purpose. _Traitor,_ she thought silently.

Finally, he finished going through Eleanor’s script and handed it back to her.

“Thanks again. I really didn’t wanna show up tomorrow night and have to explain why I didn’t know literally anything that we practiced.”

“You not knowing anything is actually more believable than you might expect,” Devi mumbled, loud enough for him to still hear.

Ben just grinned, seemingly unbothered by what she had intended as an insult, and he apparently taken to be a joke. “See you in the morning, David.” _So annoying._

“G’night, Ben!”

Devi waited for him to be out of earshot before whisper-yelling at her friend.

“Why do you even talk to him?”

“He’s really not as bad as you think he is. I mean _yeah,_ it sucks that he’s a Republican obviously, but honestly I don’t think he believes half that stuff anyway. He’s always talking about like climate change and stuff, I think he just has a rich dad with bad politics or something. I bet if someone he liked enough tried to convert him he probably wouldn’t be anymore.”

“Yeah, but like, I thought he sucked before I even knew he was in that club.”

“I don’t know why, honestly. You two have a lot in common actually.”

“Me and _Ben?_ You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not, but also I know I’m never gonna convince you that he isn’t the devil incarnate anyway, so let’s just get dessert before they run out of the good cookies.”

* * *

The two girls walked back to the dorm room that they shared with Fabiola after they finished their meal and went into their rooms to get some work done. Devi was supposed to be working on a lab report, but she found herself losing focus, so she got up to see if her friend had returned from the robotics club meeting she was supposed to go to that night. 

Noticing that the light in Fabiola’s room seemed to be on and the door was ever so slightly ajar, she knocked gently.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Come in.”

When she opened the door, Devi surveyed the room. There were spare mechanical parts scattered across the floor and bed, and there was a half-assembled robot sitting in the desk chair which left Fabiola no choice but to sit on her rug, leaning against her dresser drawers with her laptop and an open textbook in front of her. Above her friend’s head was a black and white poster of the computer programmer Grace Hopper that had one of her quotes printed in the blank space next to her photo: “The most dangerous phrase in the language is, _“We've always done it this way."”_

Devi smiled at the clutter which distinguished itself from her own room only by the lack of inside-out sequined cocktail dresses from last weekend’s frat parties. Eleanor was _definitely_ the neat friend. Fabiola did not look up from whatever she was working on, chewing on a pencil in concentration as Devi entered and found herself a place to sit on the floor across the small room.

“Hey, so about your app…” Devi started.

“No.”

“I didn’t even say anything yet!”

She looked up to make eye contact with Devi. “Were you going to ask me to look through the database to find out who you were matched with?”

“Maybe,” she sheepishly answered. 

“Then no.”

“But _Fab,”_ Devi whined, lowering herself to sit on the ground next to her.

“It’s a clear violation of the privacy protections that are in the Terms of Use. No way.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“ _So what’s he liiiike_?”

“You sound like El.”

“And?”

“ _And…._ I don’t really know yet. We’ve barely even talked.”

“But are you gonna talk _more_?”

“I thought so, but Ben showed up at dinner and I got distracted by trying and failing not to fight with him and then he kinda just stopped answering so maybe he thinks I’m boring or something.”

As if on cue, Devi’s phone pinged with a new notification from Fabiola’s app.

“Geez, is the room bugged or something? That was almost creepy,” Devi said.

“I make no promises that it isn’t,” Fabiola teased. “ _Soooo_ , what did he say?”

“OK, now you _really_ sound like Eleanor.”

“In this particular instance, I’m ok with that.”

 _“Hey, sorry,”_ the message read, _“I got caught up with something at dinner. Didn’t mean to disappear.”_

“ _Aww,”_ Fabiola read over her shoulder, and now Devi was pretty sure she was doing this on purpose to tease her. “Are we answering him or what?” she pries.

“ _We_ aren’t doing anything,” Devi says, elbowing her friend gently for her insinuation that her love life was a group project, but she didn’t protest when her friend rested her chin on her shoulder so that she could read what she was typing in response. 

_“Oh, no worries. Anything exciting?”_

_“Nah, not really. They ran out of the good cookies at the dining hall and I was considering staging a protest.”_

_“Which ones are the good cookies?”_

_“The peanut butter ones, obviously.”_

_“Thank goodness, a man with taste.”_

_“Sooo I take that to mean I’ll see you at my rally to abolish the campus sugar cookies?”_

_“Oh, absolutely count me in.”_

_“Perfect, I’ll be the guy with the megaphone”_

_“Any chance I get to know the guy’s name?”_

_“Hm. Not yet. But we can have like a code name or something, if you want, so we don’t have to just be like, ‘hey you’ or whatever.”_

_“OK, yeah. How about Dear Friend?”_

_“Dear Friend?”_

_“Yeah, you know, like a letter. Dear Friend, today I went to the grocery store and saw a man start throwing grapes on the ground and start shouting that he was making fine wine, etc.”_

_“That seems to specific to not be something that actually happened to you…”_

_“Tragically, yes. People are… odd.”_

_“Yikes. I like the nickname though.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Well then. Goodnight, dear friend.”_

_“Goodnight, dear friend.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am [@boylebingo](https://boylebingo.tumblr.com/) on tumblr - come say hey!
> 
> (Also if you've read anything else I've written for ben/devi - I know I've kinda abandoned them, but updates are coming. Pinky swear <3)


	2. i don't know his name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _They spent the next few minutes talking about the place they’d grown up, and how they missed small things, like the always-nice weather and In-N-Out burgers (and how they totally weren’t overrated no matter what their college friends said about Shake Shack because fuck Shake Shack) and bigger things, like how they were sometimes jealous of their friends who could drive home for a weekend whenever they wanted._
> 
> aka -- an eleanor call out + continued banter between devi and an ~anonymous~ dating app boy who is totally not 100% Ben Gross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i'm back! 
> 
> this chapter brought to you by All Banter, No Bite (TM). also, i didn't mention this in the first chapter, but all titles are from the musical _she loves me,_ even though I realized after posting this that the much more widely known reference would have been you've got mail. oops??
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Since they had met, Eleanor, Fabiola, and Devi had pledged to always take one class altogether every semester. This year they had picked an American history elective that they had heard was an easy A because the professor was always distracted by trying to convince his students that he was cool.

This had worked out nicely for Eleanor, since Paxton had registered for the class for the same reason, and for Fabiola, since her project partner Eve that she had a very obvious crush on turned out to be in the class too. It had worked out less well for Devi, since Ben was also there, and Eleanor and Fabiola insisted on being nice and letting him sit with them even though the class met in a lecture hall that was certainly large enough for him to sit _anywhere else_.

In order to avoid having to try and be cordial towards _he-who-should-not-be-named-before-her-second-cup-of-coffee_ – and _maybe_ also because the class started at 9 AM – she didn’t make any particular effort to get to their room very early. Unfortunately, this also often meant she wound up on the receiving end of a snide remark from Ben about her punctuality, but on most days at least, that would be the beginning and end of their conversation.

Because the semester was nearly halfway over already, this had become a well worn routine for Devi, so the morning after Ben had _invaded_ her dinner with Eleanor, things were pretty much going exactly as she anticipated: she rolled out of bed a little too late, wrangled her hair into a messy bun, and walked into their class alone (since Eleanor and Fabiola were insane people who woke up early enough to eat breakfast in the dining hall every morning) with a too-weak latte and not nearly enough makeup avoid looking as tired as she felt, ungracefully plopping down into her desk chair just as Ben opened his mouth to make her already unpleasant mood worse at precisely 8:58 AM. 

“Nice of you to show up on time for once, David,” he sneered.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Gross,” Devi shot back, irritated.

“Oh, I’m not _disappointed_ ,” he said, mocking offense at her implication, “I’m just _surprised._ ”

“Hey man, just wondering: has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?”

“You often do.”

“Well, consider this a reminder.”

“Right, cuz you’re _such_ a ray of sunshine?”

“Excuse me, I am a fucking delight. Literally everyone _but_ you loves me.”

At this moment, Professor Shapiro decides to start class, and Devi gives Ben a self-satisfied smirk, pleased to have gotten the last word in and even more pleased to see the aggravated look he gives her in return.

“OK class," their professor interrupts, "I’ve decided that for your midterms, you are going to work on a presentation in pairs. I’ve told the department head that this is so you can all learn how to be a part of a team and work on your public speaking skills, but really I just didn’t want to have to grade 20 papers over fall break, so now I’ve cut my own work in half. They’re due in two weeks, and you can pick your own topics – I really don’t care. While I’m pulling up the PowerPoint for today, why don’t you guys pick your partners?”

Devi immediately turns to Fabiola, knowing that Eleanor is going to want to work with Paxton, but she hears Eve asking if she wants to work together, and _how is she supposed to say no to the pleading look that Fabiola is giving her?_ She nods, and her friend smiles gratefully at her.

One of the guys that Devi knows from Chinese club is in this class, so she swivels around to see if maybe he still needs a partner, but when she turns back around to scan the classroom for him, she realizes with horror that everyone seems to already have a partner. Everyone except – _fuck._

“Looks like we’re working together, huh?”

Devi moves to raise her hand to argue with Professor Shapiro about how this is unfair because _feminism_ or something else vague that would scare him into thinking he wasn't _woke_ , but Ben grabs her wrist in anticipation to stop her.

“C’mon, David. It’s only two weeks. We can handle it like grownups, right? Besides we have the best grades in this class out of anyone, so if we work together, it’s basically a guaranteed A.”

“It’s basically a guaranteed A _anyway_ ,” she said. “I swear, I don’t know how this man got to be a Princeton professor. Half of his slides are just bad memes from 2013.”

Ben, who is still pinning her arm down on her desk laughs at this, and Devi isn’t certain but she thinks it’s genuine and she feels a smile creep onto her face. For a split second, she can almost see why her friends don’t mind him so much.

“That's honestly too true,” he says, thankfully breaking her deranged train of thought. “Wow, David, I think that might be the first time you've ever been right in this class before, congratulations. Should we go get some champagne?"

"If insulting me and getting me drunk is your way of winning me over to your batshit idea, you've got another thing coming, Gross." 

"You get drunk off one glass of champagne? Lightweight," he scoffs.

"Ben, I swear to _fucking_ -" 

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll shut up, but only if you promise not to ask Shapiro to switch partners if if I let you go.”

Something about him bringing attention to his hands on her makes Devi’s skin hot, and she finds herself hoping he can’t feel it. “Why do you even care? It’s not like you like me either.”

“Oh god no," he says and any warmth she was feeling drains from her body immediately. "If I'm being honest, I’m hoping that if we show him we can work well together than he’ll write me a recommendation letter about my personal growth of whatever for the law internship I want this summer. Despite his apparent incompetence, Shapiro is actually pretty well-respected in his field, for your information.”

“I’m not a dumbass, you don’t have to mansplain our own professor to me.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be a jerk.”

“I guess it just comes naturally to you then.”

“I bet he’d write you a letter too, if I asked.”

“I can ask for things myself, dipshit. And you’re changing the subject.”

“You’re not saying no.”

“Fine, whatever, I’ll do the stupid project with you, stupid.”

“ _Wooow_ , clever.”

“Shut up.”

Ben does, turning around to face forward in his seat and taking his hand off of Devi’s arm, which she is glad for. Even if she inexplicably wants him to put it back. She _is_ glad.

* * *

Before they leave class, Devi gives Ben her number so they can figure out when to meet to work on the project since even after two years of knowing each other they have never actually had a need or desire to text each other.

“Not looking forward to hearing from you soon, David.”

“Likewise,” she responds as she walks out of the room to meet Eleanor and Fabiola who are waiting for her on the other side of the doorway.

“Hey, sorry about the hold up, Ben just needed to make everything take twice as long as it should.”

“No worries. I figured maybe you finally just tore his shirt open and started making out with him.”

“Ew, El, what the _fuck_?” Devi nearly shrieks in a mixture of surprise and disgust.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Dude, you can’t just say something like that and pretend like it doesn’t need an explanation.”

“Does it though?” Fabiola murmurs.

“ _Yes,_ Fab, I think I very much need an explanation for why both of my best friends apparently think I would do something as gross as making out with the literal _only_ person I _hate_ in the middle of class.”

“I mean technically, it would have been _after_ class so,”

“Obviously _not_ the point, El.”

“I don’t know, girl, it's just that we _all_ know it's scientifically proven that behind every good rivalry is a boatload of repressed sexual tension. Besides, don’t think I didn’t see him practically pinning you down and undressing you with his eyes before.”

Devi shudders at this remark and it _isn’t_ because Ben’s intense stare from earlier gave her the chills, it’s just because Eleanor had her disgusting mind in the gutter. _Obviously._

“That is an extreme mischaracterization of what was happening and you know it. Let’s just stop talking about this though.”

“ _Suuuure_ ,” Eleanor teases. “Whatever you say, Devi.”

“I mean, besides,” Devi continues, noticeably not dropping the subject despite her own demands, “just last night both of you were practically gushing over the guy I matched with on Fab’s app, so you’re all hypocrites anyway.”

“ _Ooo_ , yes, I can’t believe I forgot! What’s up with that?” Eleanor asks, a little over-excitedly.

“He likes the peanut butter cookies too,” Fabiola interjects, and Devi nearly buries her head in her hands out of embarrassment.

“O-M-G it’s a match made in heaven,” Eleanor coos, with no degree of sarcasm in her tone whatsoever.

“You guys are embarrassing,” Devi complained.

“That’s what friends are for!” Fabiola replied cheerfully. “Now come on, let’s go get some coffee drinks with way too much sugar in them before I have to go to my engineering class.

* * *

Later that afternoon when Devi’s classes for the day were over, she was sitting outside reading a novel on the quad, trying to make the most of what was likely going to be one of the last afternoons that it was warm enough to enjoy the fresh air for a while in New Jersey. She found herself having to re-read the same paragraph over and over again, though, as her mind was constantly wandering back to her exchanges with her _dear friend_ from last night.

Devi really didn’t know what the proper etiquette was for how long you were supposed to wait before texting again on an anonymous dating app. She had never really thought about it before, since she had never really enjoyed any of the conversations that she’d had on there, but thoughts of cheesy pick up lines and cookie sit-ins had been swirling around in her mind since she woke up and if she was being perfectly honest, she really wasn’t into pretending to be the hard-to-get type.

After about a half hour of lying to herself about how she was going to finish her chapter before picking up her phone, she gave up and opened the app.

“ _So,”_ she typed out, _“I was awake all night drafting a petition to eliminate all non-peanut butter cookies from campus because they are inherently inferior, and I am proud to inform you that I was able to guilt both of my roommates into signing.”_

She pressed send, and immediately felt stupid for what she had written. Luckily, she only got about 30 seconds into her downward spiral before her phone pinged with a response.

 _“Wow, that’s pretty bold,”_ he had written. _“But what are you planning to say to the peanut allergy caucus? I hear they’re pretty intense.”_

Devi giggled, and they went on joking about cookies for a few more minutes before the topic of conversation shifted.

 _“So,”_ she wrote, _“besides complaining about the tragic reality of our campus dining situation, what else do you get up to?”_

_“tbh, that’s basically the most interesting thing about me. Before you texted, I was practicing for my piano lessons, and before that, I was dreading having to do this group project for midterms, but I honestly lead a pretty uneventful life.”_

_“You didn’t say on your profile that you played piano, that’s really cool,"_ Devi wrote back, brushing past the fact that she _also_ had a group project she was dreading because she didn't want to have to explain how she was almost 20 years old and had a nemesis, since that sounded very ridiculous to anyone who didn't know her or Ben. _"I tried to learn a few years ago but I wasn’t very good, so I never really made it past the stage where I was constantly just annoying my mom by playing one half of heart and soul over and over again in my living room.”_

_“Oh, trust me, I’m not very good either, but we’ve had a Steinway Grand Piano in my house since I was like 8 that nobody in my family even knew how to play and I decided it was too nice of an instrument to let it just be decoration.”_

_Jesus,_ Devi thought, _A Steinway?_ She was used to being around rich prep-school types at Princeton, but someone having a piano that cost more than her tuition that was only for show was a level of money she hardly ever encountered, even at an Ivy League.

 _“Sorry,”_ she read in a new message that had appeared. _“That sounded really douchey.”_

 _“I never said you sounded douchey,”_ she wrote, since she hadn’t, even if she had kind been _thinking_ it.

_“No, I know, but it’s totally fine if you thought that. You’d be right. For what it’s worth, I also find it ridiculous that my dad would buy something so expensive for literally no reason, but then again, I do not understand most of what my dad does.”_

_“OK, fine, maybe I did think it. A little. BUT it was only because you’d seemed so non-douchey up until that point, so I was a little afraid I might have been wrong.”_

_“And?”_

_“And… I think that at the very least, you might be the most *self aware* jerk I've ever had the pleasure of talking to on a dating app, so that should count for something, right?"_

Her phone was silent for a moment, and she worriedly sent another message. _“Sorry, now I think I’m the one being terrible. That was really rude wasn’t it?”I actually think you seem really nice, if that helps."_

 _“I thought it was funny,”_ he sent with a shrugging emoji, and Devi let out the breath she’d been holding in fear. _“Although I don’t know what that says about me.”_

_“I think it says that you have good taste. Though I guess I could have put that together from the Steinway… ;)”_

_“Maybe one day I can try and teach you how to play a non-terrible piece of music.”_

_“That sounds fun. Mind if I ask where that Steinway happens to be located?”_

_“In a too-big room in a too-big house in a too-big city in California.”_

_“No way, I’m from California too.”_

They spent the next few minutes talking about the place they’d grown up, and how they missed small things, like the always-nice weather and In-N-Out burgers (and how they totally _weren’t_ overrated no matter _what_ their college friends said about Shake Shack because _fuck_ _Shake Shack_ ) and bigger things, like how they were sometimes jealous of their friends who could drive home for a weekend whenever they wanted.

 _“It’s ultimately alright for me, though,”_ Devi read, _“Nobody would probably be there even if I did go back. I usually just stay here for holidays and stuff anyway.”_

_“Really? Your parents don’t even come home for like Thanksgiving and stuff? When they haven’t seen you in months?”_

_“I mean you don’t have to rub it in…”_

_“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just meant like, that makes no sense to me, that they wouldn’t want to spend time with you. You’re like, fun to talk to, or whatever.”_

_“Maybe you only think that cuz we haven’t talked in person yet.”_

_“We can always change that, yknow...”_

_“Not yet, I don't think I'm ready for you to change your mind about me.”_

_“It’s OK. I’m not sure I’m ready for you to know who I am yet either. But just so you know, I don’t think I would. Change my mind, I mean."_

Somewhere in a practice room on the other side of campus, Ben Gross was staring at this message on his phone screen, all thoughts of piano practice having been abandoned, grinning like an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi to me on tumblr -- i am [@boylebingo](https://www.boylebingo.tumblr.com)
> 
> p.s. college starts back up for me next week so if there is a lack of a chapter that might be why, but most of chapter 3 is written already so fingers crossed that I still get it up! will do my best xx <3


	3. they'd never believe us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii happy almost-new year!!! 
> 
> So I have a lil explaining to do lol. If you’ve read this or any of the other fics I’ve put up on here, you know I’ve disappeared for quite some time. So I had a lot of this story and the others drafted and then my laptop went ahead and broke super randomly. And like no one can figure out what happened to it? But also it took ~months~ to get the files off of it, and in the meantime, I’ve had to get a new computer, all while dealing with online college. Midterms & finals & school in general kinda kicked my butt this semester, and also I have been applying to grad school (ahhhhhh) so I really just did not have it in me to re-write what I had already worked on in the midst of all that. BUT! I am off til February, and have gotten most of my old drafts back by now, so I am hoping to at least finish up the stories I have started already, if not write a few new ones in the mean time. 
> 
> ANYWAY now that you know half my life story lmao… the title and a convo b/w eleanor and paxton both come directly from the musical she loves me which I do not own, but I do love very, very much and as has been previously stated, is where this fic idea came from. I don’t really have much to say about the chapter itself (other than sorry if it’s a tad bit short, I had to sorta get back in the swing of writing) but I hope you enjoy reading and that you have a happy new year!!

Their history class met again two days later, and when Devi walked into class, she immediately clocked that Professor Shapiro was hungover. This didn’t happen very often, but it also wasn’t the first time, and it had always meant that they would get to sit around and watch some vaguely relevant documentary about the Civil Rights movement or something, which Devi was looking forward to since she had been up all night talking to her _dear friend_ and was pretty tired.

Instead of a movie day, though, Shapiro announced that he would be giving them time to work on their midterm projects in class, which was just as little effort as a movie would have been for him but at least twice as much effort for Devi– maybe three times, if she accounted for the additional energy expended in trying to not strangle Ben while they worked together.

As if reading her mind, Ben turned to Devi and said “Well David, you look like you got even less sleep than I did last night, so don’t worry: I won’t expect you to have any good ideas today.”

“Aw, were you up all night getting cat-fished by a fifty-year-old Reddit creep again?”

“Internet safety is not a joke, David. It could have happened to anybody." 

As Devi and Ben continued to bicker, Paxton was watching this all unfold from a few rows away, where Eleanor had joined him to work on their project together.

“They always argue,” he casually remarked to her. “Why is that?”

“Well," Eleanor said dramatically, in a way that Paxton had come to realize was a lead in to a rehearsed bit of dialogue that she had in her back pocket for special occasions. "It’s a simple chemical reaction, you see. When two people like each other very much—”

“They _like_ each other?!”

“Well, _I_ think so.”

Paxton looked back over his shoulder incredulously, to the spot Devi was now whacking Ben’s arm with her notebook and gesturing wildly, and then turned to face Eleanor again.

“Don’t you think we should _tell_ them?”

“Ah, Paxton, my sweet summer child. They’d never believe us.”

* * *

Since most of Devi’s STEM classes also had labs, history was one of her shorter class periods, only an hour and a half. And yet Ben Gross was managing to make the mere 90 minutes they were forced to spend in each other's company feel more like 90 years.

“Ben, just because I’m not majoring in how-to-be-an-asshole: Washington, D.C. edition, doesn’t mean I can’t come up with a coherent topic for this presentation.”

“I am not doing a project about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire – it’s too... seventh grade. Besides, what if Shapiro turns around and decides there’s like, a reenactment portion of something? You know how he loves to change the rubric like two days before our assignments are due – we need to pick something _adaptable,_ which is why I’m saying that the Civil War era is a very –”

“The Factory Fire _is_ adaptable. It’s about workers’ rights under industrialization and the way that women are undervalued and frankly I’m not interested in doing a presentation where you get to talk about how the confederate flag is your _heritage_ even though you grew up in some pretentious New England suburb.”

“Ew, I obviously don’t think that. How shitty do you think I am? Actually, don’t answer that, but I swear its not that much. Also, I grew up in California. Like 10, 15 minutes away from you.”

“Huh? How did I not know you?”

“Private school. Otherwise we probably would have had 4 extra years of hating each other behind us by now – maybe more. Which you might know if you ever let me finish a sentence.”

“Try having something interesting to say, and I will.”

“I’m interesting. Loads of people think so.”

“Like who?”

“Like your best friend Eleanor?”

“She thinks _opera_ is interesting, so I don’t know if I really trust her judgement.”

“How would you know opera was uninteresting if you never really got to know… _opera_?”

Ben clearly wasn’t asking her about opera, but Devi didn’t really understand why he was pushing her so much on this. Why would Ben Gross care if she got to know him? It wasn’t like they were _friends._ That insane pursuit was better left to El. She scrutinized his face for a moment before answering, trying to figure out what he was getting at, but came up blank.

“I just think that if _opera_ wanted people to like _opera_ more, than _opera_ should try not to treat people like they’re dumb when they obviously aren’t dumb because they go to the same school as _opera_ which just so happens to be Princeton.”

“I didn’t – I mean, I don’t – well, I don't know what I mean, actually. I think I lost the metaphor.”

“And I’ve lost my patience – let’s go.” Devi stood to leave and started gathering her books.

“Go? We can’t just go, it’s only…” Ben makes a big show of checking the watch that Devi figures probably cost more than her meal plan and she doesn’t try to hide it when she rolls her eyes. “9:30. We still have an hour left of class.”

“Congrats on your ability to do subtraction, but Shapiro’s asleep, and like, basically everyone left already. Except those two, who are so grossly in love with each other that they haven’t even noticed.”

Ben’s gaze shifted from his professor, who was indeed snoring at the front of the lecture hall, to Eleanor and Paxton, who were, as Devi put it, looking very grossly in love, and completely unaware that the classroom had emptied. He tried not to acknowledge the thought that had popped into his head, nagging him about why _he_ hadn’t noticed that they were the only two pairs left in the room either, because he knew that it obviously wasn’t because he was in love with Devi, that was ridiculous. Nope. No way. It was only because she was just so _infuriating_ that he wasn’t able to pay attention to the outside world. The voice of some long dead philosopher in the back of Ben's head telling him that hate was not the opposite of love could go screw himself, Ben thought.

“We, uh, we can’t leave. We have to stay… to pick a topic.”

“Fine. But I’m not watching these two _canoodle_ for the next 60 minutes while we argue about whether or not Thomas Jefferson was a racist, so let’s just go get coffee and work on it when we get there.”

“He totally was racist - again, I'm not really sure where you got this idea that I like, support Jim Crow, or something. Also, I don’t drink coffee.”

“Well _that_ I should have guessed. Too spicy for you?”

“What? No. I _like_ Indian food. Like so much. It doesn’t make the roof of my mouth feel like it’s falling off.”

Devi laughed – a clear, genuine giggle – and Ben immediately realized no one had asked what he thought about Indian food at all, and even though he knew Devi assumed he lacked any spice tolerance whatsoever, he sounded a little stupid.

“Dude, you totally just gave yourself away there.”

“No. I didn’t," Ben said too quickly, and kept sputtering. "We can go to lunch, or dinner, or something. Sometime. Together. To an Indian place – your choice. So I can prove that I don’t eat _only_ bland tasteless chicken, or whatever.” 

Devi felt something in her chest swirling that she decided was _not_ a result of Ben's suggestion they go get food together, which sounded an awful lot to her like a date. Because he was clearly _not_ asking her on a date, and she _wouldn’t_ have wanted to go on a date with him even if he was asking, and so logically, this feeling that she was experiencing was rage. So, she reverted back to the mean:

“Right. Of course it's not all the time. Just… most of the time? Like 99% of the time?”

“Forget it. I just don’t need performance enhancing drugs to do well in school, David. That’s why I don’t drink coffee.”

“Well you can just get like, tea. Or hot chocolate. Or a muffin. Or buy me my second coffee – I don’t care. I need caffeine if we’re gonna work on this project any longer.”

* * *

They worked for a few hours on the project together, both surprised that the other hadn’t tried to kill them in the process. Devi suddenly heard her stomach grumble, and checked the time.

“Shit, it’s already after 2. I can’t believe it got so late, no wonder I’m so hungry.”

“Well, you know what they say, David. Time flies when you’re working on a midterm for your least favorite class with your least favorite person on campus.” 

“Aw, don’t flatter yourself too much, Ben. Up until about 45 minutes ago, you were actually my least favorite person I’d ever met. But not that you bought me this chocolate croissant, you've jumped up a couple places, especially since it's the only thing I’ve eaten all day.”

“I'm honored. But you really don’t know how to take care of yourself, huh? Why don’t we call it a day so you can go get some lunch? If you drop dead, I’m gonna be the prime suspect, and I can’t have that kind of investigation tarnishing my spotless record.”

“Ugh fine. Let’s go.”

“Wait, am I coming?”

“Duh. Don't think I didn't hear you promise to eat Indian food in front of me earlier – can’t exactly pass up that opportunity, can I?”

“I suddenly regret everything I’ve ever done.”

“No backing out now, Gross! Promise is a promise.”

“Alright, alright, yeah, that’s fine. Lemme just run to the bathroom before we go.”

“Ok, I’ll be here.”

Devi stood there for a few moments, not thinking about anything in particular. Not about the reasons she didn’t run as far away from Ben as possible as soon as he offered her the chance. Or why she had been stupid enough to _invite him to lunch._ She also didn’t think about how what it meant that he seemed to care enough about her wellbeing that he bought her a pastry, and _definitely_ didn’t think about how hot her skin felt when their fingers brushed against each other as he handed it over to her.

Because she _had_ someone to think about already. She had _dear friend._ Who she _really_ liked. And it wasn’t fair to him, whoever he was, for her to be thinking about Ben as if he was someone she could have a crush on, rather than what he _actually_ was: an evil alien who’s only mission on earth was to piss her off at every possible moment. It was impossible, Devi reassured herself, to have any feelings towards a creature like that. _Obviously_.

She was pulled out of her non-thoughts by a _ding_ coming from her phone. _Speak of the devil –_ it was dear friend. The message was short, and nearly knocked Devi out:

> **_Hey. I think I changed my mind. I wanna meet you._ **

Devi’s mind began reeling, wondering what she should say, wishing she was back in her apartment with El and Fab to consult them about how to respond - which emojis would be most appropriate, how long the message should be, what she should wear, where they could go, when the sound of Ben's voice behind her halted the spiral she was about to fall into. 

“Hey,” he smiled - small, but warm - as she turned to face him. “Ready to go?”

Devi looked down at her phone, up at Ben, and back down at her phone. She swiped the notification away, promising to deal with the message later. 

"Yeah. I'm ready." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on tumblr! I am [@boylebingo](https://boylebingo.tumblr.com/) and would love to chat :) 
> 
> Also I have learned that I cannot make promises anymore about update schedule, but I pinky swear there will be a new chapter as soon as possible for me, whenever that happens to be.


	4. by the way, have you read war and peace?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! it's a chapter! 
> 
> I told y'all I wouldn't give up on you lol. Today was a day off at school and so I wrote this instead of like. catching up on homework. Good decisions all around. Hope you enjoy!

Ben noticed almost right away that something was off with Devi during their lunch.

“Are you OK, David? You’ve barely made fun of how much this food is making me sweat. That’s pretty unlike you.”

“Huh?” She looked up distractedly from her phone. “Oh. Right. Um… something, something, you look like my 70 year old uncle after walking up a flight of stairs?”

“Was that a question?”

“Ugh, God, I don’t know Ben. What do you want me to insult you so bad for anyway? Aren’t you enjoying the silence?”

“Not really,” he said, only wondering _after_ the words had left his mouth if that was a little too honest. “It’s just like… arguing has sorta become our thing, hasn’t it? It just seemed like something was wrong… is something wrong?”

Devi hesitated, looking back at her phone. “Not… _wrong_ per say. I just got kind of an unexpected message while you were in the bathroom and I’m… processing.”

“I see. Anything I can help with?”

“Oh god, no. Definitely not. No offense, Ben, but I think I’d ask Mr. Shapiro for help with this problem before going to you.”

“What, is there like breaking news in Colonial Williamsburg or something?”

“Something like that.” She smiled at him, and it reassured him that nothing was seriously wrong, at least. Despite never really getting along, Ben knew that Devi had been through some really hard times in the past couple of years, and he didn’t want her to suffer for real. It was no fun to beat someone when they were already down.

“OK, fine. Let’s talk about something else. If you could only eat at one Indian restaurant for the rest of your life, where would it be?”

“I don’t need a restaurant – it would just be my mom’s food. I can barely make pasta without burning down a building, but she makes the best dinners I have ever had. What about you? Not an Indian restaurant – that would kill you – but what restaurant would it be for you?”

He thought about it a moment. “OK, this is going to sound really dorky, but there’s this diner near my high school that all the kid’s in the musical would go to after our last show and we’d all order enough ice cream for like four people and everyone who worked there probably hated us but I just have a lot of nice memories there. Plus they basically have any food you could possibly ever want – the menu was like 14 pages long.”

“You’re right,” Devi responded. “That is _incredibly_ dorky. But kinda sweet, too. Hey, you want a bite?” She gestured down to her plate.

Ben didn’t know what exactly it was she had ordered, but he was pretty certain he remembered it had 3 of the little pepper symbols next to it, meaning it was one of the spiciest things they served. Just by looking at it, he started to feel a hole burning in his stomach lining.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you are severely overreacting over the potential damage this will cause to your digestive system, so I won’t put you through the embarrassment of turning me down.”

“Thanks, Devi. You want to try mine?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, leaning across the table with her fork to take a bite of his dish.

* * *

They sat and talked at the restaurant together for a while longer before a familiar voice interrupted their surprisingly pleasant conversation.

“Ben?”

He turned around to face the source: none other than his ex-girlfriend, Shira.

“Hi, Shira.”

“I didn’t know you had a new girlfriend! Who’s this?”

“Shira, I –”

“I’m Devi.” He turned back to look at her, puzzled, but sure enough, she was reaching her hand out to introduce herself to Shira. _Weird._

“Oh my God, _you’re_ Devi?! Well that makes so much sense.”

“It does?” Ben asked.

“Oh don’t act dumb, Benny, you used to talk about her more than you talked about me when we were together. I was honestly surprised you never called me by the wrong name when we were hooking up. Well, anyway – good for you two! I’m just grabbing take out for me and my new boyfriend, so I’ll see you around Ben. Devi. Maybe we can double date some time!”

Shira smiled and winked at Devi as she turned around to leave, as if there was some shared secret between them, but Devi hadn’t the first idea about what it was. What she _did_ know is that Ben’s face was even redder than it had been when they were eating lunch.

“She seems nice,” Devi ventured.

“She was.”

“Oh my god, do you still like her? Did I totally read that wrong?”

“Huh? No I don’t still like her. But what _were_ you doing?”

“I dunno, I just figured it’s never fun to run into an ex who’s dating someone hotter than you now. Just figured I’d cover you, so you didn’t have to be embarrassed.”

“How do you know if her new boyfriend is hotter than me?”

“Just not a very high bar to clear is all I’m saying.” She winked and Ben rolled his eyes.

“You don’t believe that for a second.”

Devi only shrugged in response. “C’mon,” she said grabbing her jacket. “Let’s go.”

Both of them avoided thinking about the implications of Ben paying for both of their meals.

* * *

Ben dropped Devi off her apartment, where she had a study date with Fabiola for her bio class. By the time he got back to his own place, he had a message on his phone from _dear friend._

**_“I’m in. Where do you wanna meet up?”_ **

He tried not to let his smile get too wide as he composed a reply:

**_“Have you ever been to the Café Imperiale? We could grab dinner there Friday, if you wanted. Maybe around 8?”_ **

**_“Sounds perfect. How will I know it’s you?”_ **

**_“Hm. Good question. I’m reading War & Peace right now for my Russian lit class – I can put that on my table?”_ **

**_“It’s a date.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hey on tumblr [@boylebingo](http://boylebingo.tumblr.com)! I am on there way more often than I am on here lol :)


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